Had a brilliant dinner with Kari of Litwit, our most enchanting newest New Yorker, this evening at my darling Palacinka... then I was on my way back across Grand with ten minutes 'til the opera and it was almost assured but then my phone rang and I changed my plans, naturellement... a rendezvous at McNally Robinson and then a drink at DBA and then the night ended at maybe the best bar in the world (except for Napoleon House in New Orleans) Clandestino (actually it ended with me in my apt. eating a handful of intoxicating chocolates, sent by the lovely ladies of Au Revoir Simone, while listening to jolie laide Swedish pop -- Fibes, Oh Fibes!, Moneybrother et al -- and then a.r.s. of course; the new album is to die for...anyway that was ten minutes ago and the kettle is on for a cup of my fave tea and then I'll be off to bed). Other honorable mentions lately: Cafe Deville with Ms Bluepoppy, the portrait of charm, Teany with Martha who has very stylish taste (we like all the same things; her hot tip for the mo' is Andrew Bird), biscuits for breakfast at Clinton St. Baking Co. with Dallas Hudgens a few days ago (big things from him this fall). Also, fried green tomatoes: kind of gross. And tomorrow: a million a.m. deadlines but then lunch at Mercer Kitchen... I seriously cannot wait!

To me, one of the main signs
of transition into adulthood is owning a set of dinnerware that you
actually like and have chosen. I have yet to do this. The Alice in Wonderland dinnerware set,
however, may just change that. I saw this in the window, literally, as
I was walking by Fish's Eddy in December. The classic Alice illustrations on simple white plates impart a quiet elegance, perfect for the literary-minded shopper.

Windowlicker - from the French for window shopping: faire du lèche-vitrine - appears on Tuesday and Thursdays at 10am EST.

Friday night, I worked late and didn't have much in the way of plans and then Mike Daisey emailed me to say that he had a show at the Public Theater and did I want to go? (Yes, I understand that I lead a charmed life) And I said, sure, and I'm glad I did, because it was marvelous. Definitely check him out. Saturday morning, I got my hair cut at the Hotel Chelsea by Gerald DeCock (who is a god, btw, and who you should definitely go to if you like people stopping you on the street to tell you you're gorgeous and your hair is exquisite, and honestly, who doesn't enjoy that?). He reminded me to go see Sleepwalkers because he did the hair for it, natch, and also he just did a spread for Vice with Richard Kern. Brilliant. Then I went to brunch at Artisanal with everyone's favorite bond trader and let me just say -- even if it's a good cause for celebration, don't think for a moment that splitting a bottle of wine at breakfast won't change your plans for the rest of the day (e.g. a bit later on, showed Bryan the new bracelet I just splurged on, and he said, "ah yes... shiny). Hmmm... more highlights: running out for brunch this morning and getting to my usual spot Good World and noticing you know, the fire trucks and the water spilling down the block from the building next door, and finding out that a water main broke and it was quite in danger of collapse and asking, "Yes, but next door right? Not this building? Well I'll have a large cafe au lait then, to start, please." Just returned from a lovely walk in the softly falling snow home from a perfect dinner that was the icing on a perfect weekend, and before you hear it somewhere else: yes, it's true: I've changed my theme song from "Poppin' My Collar" to "Strange Desire." (Although: I also can't get enough of the Raveonettes' "Love in a Trash Can," which Evi totes got me hooked on; video pictured above). At least for the moment, and as usual, it's just another New York story...

"The Gotham Chamber Opera is New York City's leading opera company
dedicated to the highest quality productions of chamber operas rarely
performed in opera houses today. Our mission is to present vibrant,
fully-staged productions of works from the Baroque era to the present
that are intended for intimate venues.

...Rossini’s comic one-act opera IL SIGNOR BRUSCHINO, first presented at the Teatro Moisé in Venice in 1813, paved the way for Rossini’s burst of stardom with the premiere of Tancredia mere ten days later. Gotham’s production of IL SIGNOR BRUSCHINO is set in the sexy and stylish world of Rome’s Via Veneto circa 1960: molto Fellini. Young lovers Florville and Sofia are thwarted when Sofia’s guardian, Gaudenzio, arranges for her to marry into the well connected Bruschino family. Fueled by copious amounts of luck and lire, Florville waylays the groom-to-be, impersonates him, convinces Bruschino that he is in fact his son, and gets the girl."

In a more perfect world, a few wishes dear to my heart would be
granted. In particular, I'd L-O-V-E a subscription to BUTT magazine [link NSFW].
LC turned me onto this delightful publication (printed on pink paper),
and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since.
Unfortunately, they no longer stock it at my local Lambda Rising.

Hip art publisher Taschen has recently put out Butt Book:
"Celebrating BUTT magazine’s fifth anniversary, this book is a selection of the most fantastic and the most ridiculous interviews and photos that have appeared in BUTT so far... Like the magazine itself, this book offers an often amazingly realistic view on today’s homosexual man, including conversations with Michael Stipe, Gus van Sant, Rufus Wainwright, Marc Jacobs, as well as contributions from Wolfgang Tillmans, Terry Richardson, Hedi Slimane, Asianpunkboy, and Helmut Lang, just to name a few."

In this new feature, I'll try to post more accounts of the cultural events that I attend.

Last night I enjoyed an entertaining talk at the 92nd Street Y, featuring New Yorker columnist and essayist Adam Gopnik and humor writer and novelist Patricia Marx on the topic of "At Home in New York." Adam and Patty are neighbors and their conversation had an easy familiar charm, which was unexpectedly pleasant.

Patty was wearing an armful of gold bangles, a short grey cropped sweater over a black outfit and textured tights with knee-high boots. Very chic. Adam was also stylishly dressed in a grey windowpane plaid suit. They discussed topics of enduring local fascination like getting stuck in elevators, uncommon living situations, pests and the appeal of the city to outsiders.

Both read stories published in The New Yorker about apartments, and Patty introduced hers by saying, "I love revenge stories." Adam discussed an artist who lived above his family in SoHo and "worked in dead carp" and later, hay, which memorably festered one night and led to his helping her frantically bale it. Fun fact: Adam Gopnik does not know how to drive, and for this reason finds it difficult to imagine living anywhere other than New York or Paris because most cities are "organized around the car." Patty feels she could live anywhere for a year -- she notes without affectation, "I don't even hate LA" -- but only in New York forever.

They discussed their friendship, their respective romantic relationships, Adam's experiences raising children, Patty's joys (and the schadenfreude) of single life, and myriad other aspects of being here that make it a life worth living. In response to an audience question, Adam named Holden Caulfield of Catcher in the Rye, Joe Gould, and Basil March of A Hazard of New Fortunes -- a little known 1890s novel about "something real, as opposed to say, whale-hunting or rafting... a guy in the magazine business trying to find an apartment in New York" -- as his favorite "New York characters." Patty, being one herself, had none.